


I've Never Been This Close (But For You I'll Come Closer)

by FiveFootAngel



Series: Stark Family Love Stories [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, F/M, Family, Gen, Help I'm American and don't understand constitutional monarchies, M/M, Mention of Rape/Non-con, Multi, Politics, Sansa-centric, Siblings, Weddings, geography used inconsistently for my own convinence, kind of, really tiny mention but I just wanted to warn you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveFootAngel/pseuds/FiveFootAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa watches her siblings in love and tries to resist letting Loras Tyrell say "I told you so"</p><p>Or the unplanned sequel to my Stark siblings coming out story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Never Been This Close (But For You I'll Come Closer)

Sansa Stark knew that there was nothing wrong with the fact that she hadn’t found the same sort of long term bliss that her siblings had. It could take time to find someone who you had sparks with, and to develop a relationship. And it didn’t help that she had spent the first, almost nineteen years of her life convinced that she could fall in love with a boy. Yikes.

 

“It is getting to be a bit much.” Loras agreed when she confessed as much to him and Jeyne. He squinted at the laptop sitting on the coffee table from where he lay upside down with his head hanging off the couch. “What did you turn the last girl down for Sansa? Spitting too much when she talked?”

 

Sansa frowned. She hadn’t really wanted to talk about anything, but after five episodes of Gilmore Girls, a half a carton of neapolitan, a bottle of fancy wine that Renly had snuck back from a company event, and a half a bottle of wine that Jayne had bought for two dollars at the grocery store, Netflix was losing most of its sway over their attention spans “It’s a valid concern. And that wasn’t most of the problem. I just, wasn’t drawn to her. There wasn’t a spark.”

 

“You told me there was a spark when you were dating Joffrey.” Jeyne pointed out, trying to lean around her knee to paint her toes “Maybe no spark is the way to go. Maybe it’ll come later.”

 

“I thought I was supposed to be dating someone like Joffrey, all tall and blond and rich. The spark came from the fact that I was fourteen and stupid.” Sansa slid to the floor and took the bottle of nail polish and the tiny brush away from Jeyne, to take over the job herself.

 

“Stop thinking so much then.” Loras suggested “Just bring home the first hot girl you meet at The Peach, and ply her with your cute pink wines until you have amazing sex.”

 

Sansa sighed “I’ve done that. It doesn’t lead to girlfriends. Just a hungover girl and I sitting at the breakfast table not talking while you and Renly play footsy under the table across from us, and me feeling ashamed that between the three of us living in this house, and Renly being here basically all the time too, we still don’t have any cereals for grown-ups.”

 

“In my defense” Jeyne put in “I have an actual three year old.”

 

“Which is the only reason that I am not pushing for you to go have amazing sex with a stranger.” Loras assured her “Though if Sansa doesn’t jump on that train soon, we’ll just make her take over being your babysitter, so you can go to The Peach instead.”

 

“I know that you guys are the people who I hang out with the most, but that doesn’t actually make me gay too. The Peach would not be a strategically sound place to look for a hook up. Also, amazing sex with a stranger got me pregnant in my first year of college. I’m not really looking for a repeat of that situation.”

 

“Both of you are so lame.” Loras sighed, sitting up, and rummaging through Jeyne’s bag of nail polishes “But whoever paints my toes will be slightly less lame?” he proposed, coming up with a tiny bottle of a deep green polish.

 

Sansa snorted, and Jeyne sighed, patting her lap, and reaching out for the polish.

 

Sansa woke up the next morning to Renly opening the front door and dropping a stack of mail on the coffee table next to the laptop.

 

“You guys are so cute.”

 

Sansa opened her eyes to look around, and noticed, hey, she was totally uncomfortable, with her hips higher than her head because Loras had turned onto his side in the night, dumping her off his chest and elevating her with his waist at the same time. Jeyne had clearly gone to go sleep in her room with her kid at some point in the night, but had left the two of them to abuse each other in their sleep on the broken down old couch, all night long.

 

She slid down off of Loras, and stretched, feeling her back pop. She grinned up at Renly “Got the morning off?”

 

“Yeah, Stannis and I have an understanding about days when there are board meetings. He lets me take my boyfriend out for fancy brunches instead of working, and in return, I listen politely while the old guys talk, and kiss up to them properly so they’ll let Stannis and me keep running things.”

 

Sansa grinned. When it came to Stannis, Renly was all snark and sneers over about five layers of marshmallow. Stannis had raised him, and would do anything for him, and Renly felt the same way about him in return.

 

She twisted, around and poked Loras hard in the back “Wake up, your sugar daddy is here.”

 

“Five more minutes” he muttered, and Sansa snickered again, sliding off the couch to inspect the mail that Renly had brought in, while he went off the kitchen.

 

“Did you guys actually run out of orange juice? Isn’t this mimosa central?”

 

“It’s cheaper from concentrate. Check the freezer. The pitcher should be in the dishwasher.”

 

Credit card offer for Jeyne. Something medical insurance type for Loras. Someone trying to sell Loras funeral insurance. Macy’s coupons for her - yes please. Credit card offers for her. Someone trying to get Jeyne to go to a hearing aid info session. Something from Olenna for Loras. She stacked them into piles based on what was for whom. Almost at the bottom, there was a creamy white envelope with her name on the front in Robb’s clear, well, well rounded hand.

 

She turned it over suspiciously. His and Theon’s return address was written on the little triangle flap on the back.

 

Sansa squinted at it some more, before fitting a finger under the flap at one corner, and working the envelope open. It only tore a little bit, so she counted it as a win.

 

The card inside was a single, non-folded piece of thick, nice paper, with an illustration of interlocked rings at the top, and big italic letters at the bottom, spelling out, _Now and Always._

 

She choked a little bit, staring at the text on the card “Save the Date! Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark. August 16th.” There was more information, but she didn’t really process it, too busy staring at the card.

 

Renly set a glass of orange juice down on the table next to her, and she drained it, then glared at him a little bit “Why wasn’t there alcohol in this? You were talking about mimosas.”

 

“You’re out of sparkling wine, and I know better than to look for a good bottle of champagne around this place. I am so glad I’m not a college student anymore.”

 

“We have vodka.”

 

“Vodka would not make this into mimosas.”

 

Sansa sighed, and started hunting around in the couch for her phone. She found it under Loras’s hip, and rolled him completely onto his front to retrieve it.

 

She dialed Robb’s number, shoving the save the date in Renly’s face. He scanned it, and let out a low whistle.

 

“Well, twenty-four is still kind of young, but good for them.”

 

Sansa glared at him, and then Robb picked up.

 

“Robb Stark. I am your sister. I should not have to find out you are engaged from your save the date announcement. And the wedding is in less than four months.”

 

“I know, I know.” his voice was tired, but happy “Mom just told us last week that she had a reservation at the Alumni House at the university, and asked us if we wanted to take it. They made the reservation just after we first started dating, because you have to reserve like, forever in advance. Apparently it’s very popular.”

 

“So you’re getting married because seven years ago, Mom thought that you might still be together now, so she should plan accordingly?”

 

“Well that, and because Balon refuses to update his health insurance so that it will cover Theon’s therapy, and it’ll be easier to share mine if we’re married.”

 

Sansa instantly sobered, and murmured agreement. The one time that Theon and Robb had broken up, Theon had fallen in with a really bad guy, who had beaten and raped him. And the only person in Theon’s family who had even cared was Asha. She could definitely understand Robb wanting to marry Theon quickly, and be legally bound to him as well as emotionally. The need to look out for him.

 

“I just really want to be married to my best friend, Sansa.”

 

She sighed, and slumped back further against the couch. Stupid sentimental brother.

 

“Well you could have given me more time to find a date.” She muttered, and Robb laughed “It’s actually going to take you four months to find a date?”

 

“Not everyone has known their soulmate since they were eight years old, Robb.”

 

Robb hummed quietly into the line “Have you tried getting to know a girl before you turn her down?”

 

“I literally just had this conversation six hours ago.

 

“Did it make an impression on you then?”

 

Sansa scoffed, and Robb sighed.

 

“Well, you’re coming home as soon as you finish your finals right? We can go bridesmade dress shopping then.”

 

Sansa choked “Excuse me?”

 

“You’re going to be my bridesmaid. Or well, groomsmaid” Robb explained patiently “Jon’s my best man, Asha is Theon’s maid of honor, then we flipped a coin to see who would get you and Arya and who would get Bran and Rickon. Don’t tell the boys, but I was really pulling to get you guys.”

 

“Umm...” Sansa really had no response to that.

 

“We’ll talk more about wedding plans later.” Robb reassured her (she was not reassured) “I’ve got Jon calling me right now, can I let you go?”

 

Sansa blew out a long breath “Yeah. And Robb?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Congratulations.”

 

She could practically hear the slow grin spreading across his face “Thanks Sansa.”

 

He clicked off, and Renly helpfully nudged another glass of orange juice into her hand.

 

“This one has vodka.”

 

“You’re the best.” she murmured, leaning back against the couch.

 

“So my sister Margaery would make you look great at a wedding.” Loras commented, his face right next to hers.

 

Sansa shrieked in surprise, and narrowly stopped herself from throwing her new drink in Loras’ face.

 

“I thought you were still asleep. Asshole.”

 

Loras smirked at her “Sister of the bridegroom huh?”

 

“Renly, get your boyfriend away from me, we are not friends at the moment.”

 

“Yeah, come on babe, you need to get dressed for brunch.”

 

Sansa took a long pull of her vodka and orange juice, as Loras kissed her on the head, and clamored off the couch to give Renly a kiss.

 

“Think about it Sansa. Margaery’s awesome.”

 

Sansa resolved not to think about it, just to spite him.

 

 

 

She graduated in May, and Dad got her a job in the library at the university back home as a day job while she tried to get hired in fashion marketing. There were many tearful good-byes as she packed up her things to leave the little rented house where she had lived for three years with Loras and Jeyne.

 

All summer was occupied with wedding plans, including a very intense week choosing groomsmaid’s dresses. Robb had forgotten that Asha would need a dress too, and so it was kind of a surprise to everyone when she came along. He actually looked kind of terrified for a minute, and Sansa was worried he would chicken out, and decide that he actually didn’t need to put in any imput, but he sucked it up and got over it soon enough. She was actually kind of impressed. They eventually managed to settle on a deep indigo dress with one strap, and strappy wedge heels for Arya and Asha so that Sansa wouldn’t look so much taller than them in her sandals. 

 

Robb’s wedding went off without a hitch. Dad walked him down the aisle, and shook Theon’s hand, they said the vows they had written, Sansa cried all through the ceremony, and Jon didn’t even temporarily misplace the rings once.

 

Leaving the hall next to Bran felt right. Entering the reception next to him felt right. They had just seen their oldest brother get married to his best friend.

 

Jon and Asha were ahead of them - and she was sure that they would be having a better time when they didn’t have to play each other’s opposites anymore. She wished she had been there when they realized they would be for the entire ceremony.

 

Arya and Rickon were behind her, whispering to each other. Arya and Bran had been doing their middle child silent communication thing all throughout the ceremony, and now Rickon was trying to get the inside scoop on what had been said.

 

Going to sit down next to Mya Stone had not felt so right. They had been great friends in college, and had tried dating once, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. Mya was a champ about it now though. They had a great time, gossiping about the other guests, and Mya laughed good naturedly at the way that Sansa started crying again during the speeches.

 

They had an amazing time on the dance floor, because again, great friends, and they were both awesome at dancing with good looking ladies.

 

But when the slow songs came on, she saw Robb and Theon, on the edge of the dance floor, looking at each other, like they had just seen the sun rise and realized that it was what kept them alive. Jon and Ygritte were sitting at the head table, leaning against each other, as they watched everything in the room and smiled fondly. Arya and Gendry were glaring at each other, until Gendry finally gave in, and asked her to dance. Jojen sat on Bran’s lap, as Bran turned one wheel on his chair, to turn them in slow circles. Rickon was sitting at the edge of the dance floor with some friends, and they were probably going to be getting in trouble any minute now, but he was only fifteen years old, and no one really expected him to be in love yet.

 

Mya followed her gaze around the room and offered her a rueful smile “Wanna go get more cake? And find whoever has the rest of the champagne.”

 

“Gods, yes.”

 

Loras laughed at her the next time they had lunch together “I told you, you should have asked Margaery.”

 

Sansa resolved that she, Sansa Stark would never ask Margaery Tyrell out to anything ever. If Margaery was her soulmate, that was just too bad. Loras had ruined everything for both of them, by being insufferably smug and awful.

 

She stole the last of his french fries too.

 

 

 

“Ygritte and I are getting married.” Jon announced

 

It was two days after Christmas, the year after Robb and Theon’s wedding, and everyone was sitting at the Stark house, after dinner.

 

There were all sorts of sounds of congratulations, and everyone gave the two of them hugs and kisses.

 

“See Robb?” Sansa put in “You give your family some warning. When are you thinking about having the wedding?” she turned back to Jon.

 

Jon winced “Tomorrow?”

 

Sansa stared at him flatly “I take it back.”

 

“What’s the big rush for?” Bran asked “I mean, it’s not like Ygritte is pregnant.”

 

Jon and Ygritte exchanged glances, and Robb closed his eyes, and Theon laughed, leaning into Robb a little more. “No, of course she is.”

 

“How even?” Robb continued on “I mean...”

 

“Yes, I am still ace, yes, the baby is biologically mine, and yes, it was mostly intentional, and no, you don’t need to know anything more than that.”

 

Arya and Sansa exchanged half smiles. Jon would usually let Robb get away with murder. It was nice to see him stand up for himself a little more.

 

“How long have you known?” Mom asked, giving Jon’s hand a little squeeze.

 

“Around Thanksgiving. We didn’t think it would work right away.” Ygritte laughed “I had to talk Jon out of us just going to the courthouse that day. And then we thought we would wait until after the baby was born, but...” she trailed off, looking up at Jon “We changed our minds.”

 

“Kids deserve for their parents to be married to each other. To love each other.” Jon said quietly, and that was basically as close as he ever got to talking about his biological parents, and all the mistakes they had made.

 

Then he looked up at Mom and Dad. “Like I had with you two.”

 

And really, no one could argue after that without looking like a massive jerk.

 

Sansa sighed “It’s a good thing I went to the after-Christmas sales. Mom, does Dad have any non-Professory type suits?”

 

Dad looked a little offended, but Mom just nodded.

 

“Nobody needs to wear a suit!” Jon protested “I’m not going to be wearing a suit!”

 

“At least a decent shirt and tie then!” Sansa insisted.

 

Jon looked like he was going to protest, but she pointed a finger at him “No. No brother of mine is getting married without at least a button-down shirt and a tie.”

 

Sansa grabbed Arya by the shoulders, as she squaked at her indignantly, and turned her to face Jon.

 

“Your Best-Man?” she asked Jon, and he nodded sheepishly, as Arya indignantly said “Best-Woman! And who says I agree?”

 

Jon looked at her worriedly, and she hastily put in “But, I do agree.”

 

“Any color suggestions?”

 

Ygritte and Jon both shook their heads meekly “No pink or yellow?” Ygritte offered, “My dress is blue, so not that?” and Sansa nodded

 

“Let’s see what’s in your closet, Arya.” she started marching her sister up the stairs, before she thought of something else, and leaned over the bannister to yell “Oh gods, neither of you even thought about flowers, did you?”

 

There was nothing but silence, and Sansa nodded grimly “I’ll call Loras. His family is in event planning. I’m sure he’ll be able to get something together.”

 

The wedding, was, adorably, where Jon and Ygritte had shared their first kiss, in the woods behind the house, under the heart tree.

 

It was warm for December, the real winter not yet having set in like it would any day now, but it was still cold. If there had been time to get heat lamps for the back deck, or clean up the house, Sansa would have insisted on a different location, but there hadn’t been.

 

No matter how hard Sansa tried to push, there was no way that she could keep Ygritte and Jon separate that morning, not even for tradition’s sake.

 

Mom and Dad had gotten ingredients for enough spaghetti and salad to feed an army, and Sansa had managed to cajole, wheedle and threaten all of her brothers, and Theon and Gendry into shirts, ties and even jackets. She had found Dad’s least hideous and professor like outfit, and made him promise to wear it.

 

Jojen was out of town with family, and Rickon’s boyfriend Devan had a cold, but he had gotten his girlfriend Shireen there, and she was, thankfully, not dressed in blue like the bride. Val, Ygritte’s Maid of Honor looked amazing in a flowing bottle green jumpsuit, and that color choice meant that Sansa had forced Arya into a dark purple long sleeved mini-dress that she had bought her for Christmas last year.

 

She had gotten Bran to make a playlist last night, and sent Robb and Theon to buy champagne and a cake - any cake, so long as it was large enough for twenty people, and came from an actual bakery, not a grocery store, or Costco.

 

She had made Rickon and Gendry go to the rec center and borrow two dozen folding chairs, and three tables, and some sound equipment.

 

Loras had promised there would bouquets for Ygritte, Arya and Val, and boutonnieres for Jon and Sam (who had gotten ordained online so he could do the ceremony) at the house by one thirty.

 

She was so busy making sure that everyone else would be acceptable, that in the end she just  wore the silky grey dress she had bought for New Years. It was tiny, but at least it wasn’t covered in sequins, like the dress she wore last year. She was just finishing eyeshadow on one eye when the doorbell rang.

 

“That’s probably the flowers!” she shouted “Someone get the door.”

 

There was no response at first, then Ygritte yelled “Yeah, okay.” and Sansa groaned.

 

Really? The bride had to get the door on her own wedding day? No one else was available?

 

“No, I’ve got it Ygritte!”

 

She hurried down the stairs, her feet bare, and her hair flying behind her, in the perfect curls she had just finished with.

 

She opened the door, her sweet smile perfectly in place - and froze, because the girl on the other side was beautiful. Light brown hair falling in loose, natural curls, dressed for the cold in green tights and a black skirt and yellow sweater. Sansa was suddenly very aware of her half completed make up, and her long pale legs, so prominently displayed.

 

“Hi, You must be Sansa. I’m Loras’ sister, Margaery? He said I should personally deliver these flowers.” She gestured to the Prius in the driveway and Sansa bobbed her head mutely. She was going to murder Loras.

 

“Yeh...” she stopped, and cleared her throat, “Yeah, sure. Let me help you bring them in.”

 

She started to step outside, and Margaery laughed a little, holding up a hand, against Sansa’s stomach to stop her from crossing the threshold “Don’t you want to put on shoes first?”

 

Sansa blushed “Right, of course, that is a thing that I should be...doing.” She looked around wildly, not about to run upstairs to get her heels, and then remembered the hall closet next to the entrance. She saw Mom’s rain boots and slipped them on. They were tighter than was really comfortable, but she followed Margaery out to the car in them anyway, and accepted the boxes with the bouquets that she piled into her arms.

 

“You really didn’t have to come all this way personally, I know we’re really out of the way of, well, everything.”

 

Margaery grinned “Oh, no, Leonette and I were in the area, anyway, and Mom and Dad have connections with every single high-end flower shop anywhere in Westeros. It was really no trouble to pick them up. Trust me, you don’t need a last minute delivery fee, and worrying if they’re actually going to get there on top of everything else.”

 

“Leonette?” Sansa asked, telling herself she was not, going to be disappointed if she was a girlfriend.

 

“She’s Garlan’s wife. Garlan and Willas think that they’re going snow camping in the mountains, and we’re staying at the hotel in town, to pick them up when they get tired of it, probably about tomorrow.”

 

Sansa laughed, a little harder than the statement really warranted, and Margaery grinned at her and reached back into the car for the boutineers.

 

“Though I am missing out on a massage, if Leonette’s Snapchat story is anything to go by.”

 

Sansa grinned into the boxes of flowers, and then cursed internally. Pretty, friendly, and funny. It was making her resolve to never date her a lot harder to keep up.

 

Though, there was every chance that Sansa herself had burned that bridge when she showed up at the door looking like she did.

 

She led Margaery inside, and showed her where to put the flowers down. “Here, in the kitchen.”

 

Margaery grinned, looking over everything. Stacks of pasta boxes next to the stove, all the boys except for Jon visible outside, putting together the set up for the ceremony.

 

“Where’s the bride?”

 

Sansa groaned a little “Last I checked, she and the groom were watching X-Files with the Best Woman, and the Maid of Honor, while he did her make-up.”

 

Margaery raised her eyebrows a little bit, then giggled. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh...”

 

“No, I know. I tried to tell them that weddings have traditions for reasons, but -

 

“No, no that’s not what I...” she shrugged and smiled crookedly “My grandmother oversees a lot of event planners. She keeps track of about hundred and fifty weddings in a year, and they are all beautiful, and they are all very traditional. Sometimes I think that they’d be a little bit more beautiful if she allowed the couples some more freedom, you know? Something individual. It’s refreshing.”

 

Sansa felt something melt in the structured singlemindedness she had been putting on to make the wedding happen.

 

“I think I needed to hear that. I’ve been going crazy planning this since yesterday, and I mean, it makes sense to make sure that there’s cake, and music, and everyone has someplace to sit.”

 

“But if the bride wants to spend the morning watching Netflix in her pajamas while her husband-to-be plays makeup artist, then it’s their wedding and you should let them be happy?”

 

Sansa nodded. “Thank you.”

 

Margaery grinned at her “Happy to provide some perspective.”

 

Sansa felt a smile overtaking her too. Not her bright, welcoming, answering the door smile, but a real one that took over her entire face.

 

The fridge door banged open beside them, and Sansa saw Arya leaning into it, her tiny purple dress tucked inside a pair of Jon’s black sweatpants, as she searched for something to eat, her hair still under a beanie, and her hips swaying to music coming from the iPod tucked into her bra.

 

She came back out of the fridge with a pecan pie left over from Christmas, and cut herself a generous slice, poured a glass of milk, and headed back upstairs with her food.

 

She made eye contact with Sansa on the stairs, behind Margaery’s back, and nodded in appreciation, trying to give her a thumbs up even though both hands were occupied. Sansa fought the blush that was crawling up her face, looking down and shaking her head.  

 

She looked back up at Margaery and they both burst out laughing.

 

“Not to take away from anything we just said” Sansa sighed, “But I don’t think anyone else upstairs is going to make sure the Best Woman brushes her hair...”

 

“And some things shouldn’t be left up to chance.” Margaery finished with a grin “Well, I hope everyone loves the flowers.”

 

“Well I love them, and I was the only one who even thought of flowers, so...”

 

Margaery grinned at her again, and Sansa walked her back to the front door.

 

“And please don’t take this the wrong way, but make sure you finish your make-up, before they start taking pictures.”

 

Sansa gasped, and blushed furiously “You’re right, I completely forgot. Thank you, again.”

 

Margaery gave her another crooked grin “Tell the happy couple that I said congratulations.”

 

And then she was off, back inside the little green Prius, and driving back down the road back to town.

 

Sansa allowed herself fifteen seconds of screaming into a pillow, before she pulled off Mom’s rainboots and went back upstairs to finish her hair and make-up, before she intruded on the wedding party and broke up their cult-classic marathon to do Arya’s hair, and make her take off the sweatpants.

 

Jon had indeed, been the one to do Ygritte’s make-up, and it was beautiful, and he was now trash-talking Val while they played a fighting game. Sansa thought it might have been Smash Bros, but she was too busy searching through her jewelry box to find the right clip to put in Arya’s hair to tell for sure.

 

She pinned back the side of Arya’s hair with bobby pins, and put a shimmery rhinestone clip over it.

 

“Alright.” She sat back and looked her sister up and down “Lose the sweatpants and you’ll be perfect.”

 

Arya made a face at her and did as she was told, as Jon lost the fight, and cursed aloud as Val pumped her fist in the air.

 

Sansa congratulated herself on her good taste. She wouldn’t have looked nearly as good as Arya did in the dress. “Beautiful”

 

“Shut up.” Arya muttered, but Jon grabbed her arm and spun her around “Nope, Sansa’s right. You’re stunning.”

 

“Thank you Jon. Now go put on real clothes.”

 

Jon groaned theatrically, but kissed Ygritte, and spun Sansa around as well, before leaving to Robb’s room, where Sansa had laid out the dark jeans, grey shirt, black jacket and blue tie he had agreed to wear.

 

Sansa exchanged looks with Val and Ygritte “Promise me you’ll send them downstairs by three?”

 

Arya glared at Sansa “I don’t need to be managed!”

 

“Cross my heart” Val nodded “Come on Arya, your brother needs his honor defended,”

 

The rest of the preparations are kind of a blur, and before Sansa really knows what’s happening, she’s sitting next to her mother, watching Arya murmur quietly to Jon, while Sam grins at them both, and then Rickon changes the music and Val is walking down the aisle, and Ygritte is right behind her.

 

They hadn’t taken the time to write their own vows, so Sam leads them through the usual in sickness and health vows, and then he’s using the power vested in him by the State of the North, and declaring them husband and wife. Sansa is, of course, bawling her eyes out by the time they kiss, and nobody bothers to go back up the aisle, all of the guests kind of just mob the wedding party with hugs and kisses, and Bran starts bossing people around into formation to take pictures.

 

Everyone is busy with that for a while, until someone remembers that they can all go back inside where it’s warm, and the boys set up the tables in the living room for dinner.

 

At the toasts part of the evening, Arya tells Jon and Ygritte that she had no time to write any sort of speech, so all she was going to say was congratulations and good luck, and she knew they would be amazing parents, and it was their own fault that they weren’t getting anything more from her, and Val laughs out loud, and without even standing raises her tumbler of champagne and says “Ditto”

 

Then Jon stands up and thanks everyone for coming so last minute. He looks straight at Sansa and then says “And Ygritte and I really, really want to thank my sister Sansa, for making this wedding happen. Without her, this whole thing would have basically just been us repeating after Sam and signing a paper, but she made sure that it turned out amazing, and beautiful.”

 

He smiles at her, lopsided “And she made me wear a tie, but I won’t hold that against her.”

 

Sansa smiles back at her brother, and he holds out a hand to her, so she crosses the room for a hug, and Ygritte stands up to get one too.

 

And honestly, even though she’s still the only one of her siblings without a significant other, she’s never felt less lonely.

 

 

 

“I think Mom wants Gendry and me to get married.” Arya told Sansa, tossing a rubber band ball up in the air and catching it as it came back down.

 

Sansa snorted “Did you tell her it was a lost cause?”

 

“Yup. She’s still been hinting like crazy.” She tossed the ball extra high, and leaned back in her chair to snatch it back out of the air, then continued.

 

“I think she’s just excited about weddings after Robb’s and Jon’s. She used to be all _‘The insistence on marriage is one more damaging mark that is left over from the time that the Faith of the Seven ruled over Westeros. Marriage shouldn’t be rushed into. Marriage is just one more way that control was exerted over women for years’_.”

 

“You notice that even though she said that for years, she’s married. I think that’s just her agreeing with the women’s studies party line.”

 

Arya huffed out a laugh “Well there is that.”

 

Sansa wiped the grease off her fingers and started flipping through the proposed magazine spreads that had been sent to her.

 

“Who taught this guy how to frame a photo?” she demanded, holding up shot of beautiful twenty somethings sprawling in a loft wearing fashionable clothes “I hope the rest of these look better.”

 

Arya started flipping through the spreads too.

 

“It’s an ugly apartment too.” Arya said “The place Gendry and I are going to be renting is way better.”

 

Sansa nodded, watching Arya’s expression shift into her considering, planning face “They were trying to be cool and edgy I guess, but they missed the mark.”

 

She sighed, and picked up a pen to start writing suggestions on the print outs.

 

But Arya slapped a hand down on the table and pointed at the photospreads “That’s it! We’ll have a housewarming party, show Mom how domestic and committed we are, and she’ll back off on the whole wedding thing.”

 

“You hope” Sansa commented

 

“I hope” Arya echoed “It would be really great.” She fished her phone out of her pocket “I’m gonna go call Gendry.”

 

Sansa saluted her with her water bottle “Thanks for lunch.”

 

“Mhm” she murmurs, waving absently as she hops off the meeting room table.

 

“Oh!” she calls, leaning back around into the room “Did you ever call that girl with the flowers? From Jon’s wedding?”

 

Sansa points to the door, and Arya raises her hands in surrender “Gods, I was just wondering.”

 

She hadn’t called Margaery. At first. But Margaery had found her on Facebook and sent her a message, and she had responded. And Margaery was still really sweet and funny online. And then they had started texting, and then calling. But Sansa was working in Riverrun, and Margaery was attending law school in Oldtown, and they weren’t really close enough that they could really justify flying out just to see each other. Not without somebody showing their hand, and Sansa really wasn’t ready to reveal how much the relationship meant to her. Not yet.

 

She stared at her own cellphone, and pulled up Margaery’s number. She paused, and stared at the picture that the other woman had sent her. Garlan had apparently snapped it while she was looking out the window with the lower half of her face buried in a bright blue scarf.

 

Sansa took a deep breath and pressed the button to dial Margaery’s number.

 

“Hey Sansa! What’s up?”

 

Sansa felt herself smiling, just from listening to Margaery’s voice “My sister’s got this plan to make my mom stop hinting that she and her boyfriend should get married.”

 

“Well, my grandmother would want me to tell you that everyone should get married, and hire her to plan the wedding, but I fully support her decision not to get hitched. What’s the plan?”

 

“Housewarming party.”

 

Margaery paused “Well that depends if your mom is the sort of person who can be appeased.”

 

“Oh she knows how to compromise.” Sansa agreed “She just doesn’t like to.”

 

Margaery laughed over the line, and Sansa felt a curling glow growing in the pit of her stomach “And I think it might work for a while, but probably not for long.”

 

“Well, it’s better than nothing? And really, house warming parties are an excuse for fancy cheese and fruit trays, so it will be fun anyway?”

 

“That is an excellent way of looking at it.” Sansa nodded, while she thought it over “I’ll tell my other siblings to look at it that way.”

 

She heard Margaery’s warm chuckle across the line, and she savored it for a moment, before asking “So what’s new in law school?”

 

“You mean besides a new appreciation for just how deep the corruption in Westeros that favors straight white males goes?”

 

“Ouch. That kind of week huh?”

 

“So much.” Margaery groaned “Honestly, sometimes I think about just throwing in the towel and telling grandmother that I’ll become one of her party planning minions.”

 

“Nooooo…” Sansa ordered “You are learning about how the law works so that you can become an amazing politician and fix it all, as the first openly lesbian Prime Minister.”

 

“But flower arrangements, and beautiful cakes, and women in white dresses…” Margaery objects pathetically, and Sansa laughs at her.

 

“You’d be bored in a week.”

 

“I know, I know. But it is a nice fantasy when my professor mentions for the third time that there is no way to be taken seriously as a lawyer if you’re a woman with long hair and you leave it loose.”

 

Sansa winces “He said that?”

 

“I quote, ‘Supermodel curls will do nothing but remind the judge of the women he saw last night on the stripper pole’.”

 

“Asshole!” Sansa said sharply, and then blushed “Honestly though, who does he think he is?”

 

“One of those privileged straight white men who can say what they want.” Margaery sighed “I hate it, you hate it, everyone who respects women hates it, but sometimes just have to suck it up and wear the right kind of costume.”

 

“Well at least you’ll be making some kind of difference.” Sansa sighs “Giving everyone their day in court and all that. Meanwhile I spend all day trying to figure out the best way to sell people overpriced celebrity knockoffs.”

 

“Hey, don’t put yourself down like that! It takes real artistic knowledge, and people skills-

 

“No, I know. I just thought this job would be more worth it you know? I would be surrounded by all these amazing clothes, and these great creative people designing them, and I would be the one who humanized them. Made them approachable for the everyday person. But it’s just not like that at all. And all of our photographers and graphic artists are horrible.”

 

She pushed away from the table, and spun her chair in a circle.

 

“Hey.” Margaery’s voice is gentle “I think that you’ve done some great stuff for Leaping Trout. I loved that last spread in Vogue. But if you’re not happy, you should know, I think you can do anything. You don’t have to just focus on what you studied in school.”

 

“You barely know me!” Sansa protested, “I mean, you met me in real life once. I could actually be a giant idiot, who just sounds good over the phone.”

 

Margaery was silent for a moment and Sansa panicked. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, she had just offended the hottest, smartest girl who had ever talked to her. She was a giant idiot, and she clearly didn’t even sound good over the phone, oh gods.

 

“Sansa” Margaery’s tone was dry, and cold, and Sansa had fucked up so bad “I spend all day with lawyers. I know when someone is full of shit. You are always really genuine. Except for that right there. I know you really well. Unless you’re really good at concealing things, and everything for the past six months has all been a lie.”

 

“It hasn’t been, I swear. It’s not. I’m sorry I just…”

 

She sighed, and pushed back the strands of her hair that had escaped her braid “I’ve been in denial a bit about how close we are, I think. You’re the first bi or lesbian girl that I’ve been such close friends with without trying to date, and.... Anyway, I’m just feeling stupid now that I’m realizing it.”

 

“That’s okay.” Margaery said, but it was clearly not the whole truth. There was sound of things crinkling in the background, and then Margaery’s voice came over the line again “I have to go. I’m meeting with some friends to go over stuff for class.”

 

And that was probably stretching the truth too

 

“Yeah, of course.” Sansa heard herself say vaguely “Talk to you later.”

 

“Absolutely” Margaery assured her, and there was her usual, sure, intelligent tone. That at least, was the complete truth. Good.

 

 

 

Arya’s housewarming party was the most hilariously mismatched group of people she had ever seen in her life.

 

Her whole family had been invited, and they were of course all there, even Ygritte and the brand new baby, Eddard Stark-Wild, and Uncle Benjen. 

 

Arya’s best friend from high school Lyanna Mormont was there with her boyfriend Smalljon.

 

Arya and Gendry’s other assorted friends were there too – sloppy looking kids who had names like Lommy and Hotpie and Weasel, and their slightly neater looking friends Jeyne and Willow, and Edric Dayne who looked downright preppy next to the rest of them.

 

Sansa knew that her own parents would probably be bemusedly interested in all the friends, and would make polite discussion until someone realized that it wasn’t going anywhere.

 

But Gendry had invited his family members as well, so Stannis Baratheon was there, looking uncomfortable with everything going on, and Renly was there being horribly friendly, and also better dressed than anyone there (well, besides Sansa, obviously). Loras was also there, because he and Renly never went anywhere separately if they could go together, and also because the world hated Sansa, and wanted someone who would try to set her up with their sister to bother her as often as possible.

 

On top of the uncles, Gendry had his cousin Shireen, who was also there in her capacity as Rickon’s girlfriend, and his many varied half siblings. There was Mya, yes the one that Sansa had tried to date, and Bella, who was very beautiful and very interested in flirting with all the boys around her, and Edric, who was about Bran’s age and had lived with Stannis since he was a baby, and last of all, Barra who was the youngest of all of Robert’s known children, barely twelve, and an actual sweetheart.

 

Sansa tried to ignore how all of these people were so connected to each other, but really just couldn’t. They family and friends were getting too connected to each other. If she started dating Margaery, her girlfriend would be related to Loras who was dating Renly who was related to Gendry, who was dating Arya, who was related to her and – no. Why couldn’t she be a normal person who was into someone that nobody in her family had ever heard of – like Robb, or Jon. No one in her family was friendly with Theon’s family. Granted, it was because they weren’t very friendly people. No one had ever spoken to Ygritte’s family at all, because she had cut ties with them when she came down from the far North.

 

She also realized that these were not very good examples of normal situations.

 

Arya and Gendry probably hadn’t really understood that a housewarming party was about showing off how great your new house was, and making it feel warm and home like by inviting all your friends, who brought you presents.

 

She and Mom had made a point of making up some fancy cheese and cracker trays and some fruit trays, and Robb and Theon had brought some bottles of wine.

 

Arya and Gendry had ordered a dozen pizzas and put two plastic buckets of ice by the table, one full of sodas, and one full of beers.

 

There were too many people for the two bedroom apartment, Arya was wearing yoga pants and a hoodie, Gendry’s jeans were ripped at one knee and there was black grease stain on his red t-shirt.

 

It was the most beautiful train wreck Sansa had ever seen.

 

“This is the most beautiful train wreck I’ve ever seen.” Theon commented, leaning back against one wall.

 

Sansa wordlessly held out her wine glass. Theon chuckled and clinked his bottle of beer against it.

 

Stannis Baratheon’s look of horrified realization that his eldest nephew was actually going to live in this place was, in a word, priceless.

 

“So, I don’t usually spend too much time talking to Loras Tyrell” Theon said slowly, and Sansa felt her heart actually sigh in exasperation “But he had some very interesting news about you and a certain sister of his.”

 

“He is dead to me. And Margaery and I have only seen each other face to face once.”

 

“Okay, but that wasn’t really what I was wondering. I was wondering if you liked her.”

 

Sansa looked over at Theon with an eyebrow raised “Are you trying to…big brother me?”

 

“I don’t know” Theon admitted “How am I doing at it?”

 

“Strangely, not horrible.” Sansa said, staring quizzically at Theon “How are you not horrible at this?”

 

Theon snorted “The littlest one has been over a lot, and I end up being the one he talks to because Robb is exhausted from work. Why he went into local politics I will never understand.”

 

“Liar.”

 

“Okay yeah, I do understand.” Theon’s face softened, the way it always did when he talked about Robb “Yeah.”

 

Sansa took the opportunity to clink her wineglass against his beer bottle again, and beat a quick retreat by ducking into a crowded circle of Gendry’s half siblings. It was the cowardly move, but Sansa was willing to accept that.

 

 

 

“So I have some ideas of new jobs I could do. I was thinking maybe I could run them by you.”

 

“Yeah?” Margaery’s voice came over the other end of the line.

 

“Yeah.” Sansa echoed

 

“Okay.” Sansa could hear Margaery’s grin, as she settled back against the pillows on her couch and pulled out her list “So I know that it’s cliché to become a teacher, but I was thinking maybe I could teach something more fun, like writing, or photography.”

 

“Oh, you’d be great at photography, your Instagram is a master piece.”

 

“I know, right?” Sansa agreed “So I was thinking, there are so many other things in photography that could be fun too. Like fashion photography! I could take the pictures instead of just looking at other people’s horrible photos.”

 

“And you’d probably get to take photos of more than one brand.” Margaery pointed out “I mean, I’m not actually sure how that works, but you could probably freelance. Get hired for all sorts of different jobs.”

 

“That would be really great.” Sansa sighed

 

“Or Wedding Photography?” Margaery suggested “I could get you connected to Grandmother. You’d be working by the end of the week.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sansa promised “But I filled a whole page with ideas of things that would probably be more meaningful to me than what I do now, and I want to talk about all of them with you.”

 

“Okay, okay.” Margaery grinned “What’s next on the list?”

 

 

 

Sansa ended up with a job at a non-profit, organizing connections between extracurricular teachers and low-income schools. She was working longer hours and making less money, and would probably have to either get a roommate or give up her fashion habit. There was no parking lot at the office, so she had to either take public transportation or beg her Uncle Edmure to swing by and pick her up on his way into work.

 

She loved her new job so much.

 

“Yes Sansa, I get it, you’re happy with your new job.” Bran grumbled through the phone, and Sansa felt herself blink a little “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Bran?”

 

“It’s just…everyone else in the family is getting married and moving in together, and you’ve got your new job that you love so much, and I’m just…”

 

“Just what?” Sansa asked hesitantly

 

“Just wondering if maybe it’s my turn to start thinking about the future. I know Mom really wanted Arya and Gendry to have a wedding, and maybe if Jojen and I get engaged…”

 

“Stop right there. You are twenty one.”

 

“Yeah, so?”

 

“So you have your whole life to make Mom happy. Don’t go rushing into anything. For one thing, you still need to graduate, and get a job and figure out what direction you are going in.”

 

“But Robb and Theon were barely graduated when they got married.”

 

“And yeah, it worked for them. But it was what they wanted. You could see that looking at them that nothing would make them happier than being married. But you don’t have to move on the same schedule as them. Also, they were three years older than you, because it took Robb an extra year to graduate because he changed his major twice.”

 

“But…”

 

“Bran. Do you want to be married to Jojen right now, more than anything in the whole world?”

 

There was a long silence over the line before Bran admitted “No…”

 

“Then wait until you do. Don’t get engaged just to make Mom happy.”

 

“Okay.” Bran said quietly “Thanks Sansa.”

 

“If you really want to thank me, promise you won’t get married before me.”

 

“Yeah, like I’d agree to that when you don’t even have a girlfriend.” Bran scoffed

 

Sansa could feel her cheeks blushing bright pink and scrambled for something to say “Ouch.”

 

 

 

“So I’ve got four weeks off between the end of summer session and the start of fall.”

 

“Nice.” Sansa grinned “Gonna go home and see the horses?”

 

“Obviously” Margaery agreed “But I’m thinking that it might not take up all four weeks. Maybe there might be some time that I could travel.”

 

Sansa took a deep breath and curled her legs in close to her body. Roslin gave her a questioning look, but Sansa waved away her concern. Roslin Frey was an excellent roommate, but she could get kind of nosy sometimes.

 

“Where were you thinking about traveling?”

 

“Well I hear the Trident is beautiful this time of year.”

 

“It is” Sansa confirmed

 

“And I was thinking that it would be great to visit it with a friend sometime, someone who could maybe show me around Riverrun later.”

 

Sansa started laughing “Okay, yes. I would love it if you would come up. You can even stay here if you don’t want to get a hotel room.”

 

She felt a stab of guilt and took the phone away from her mouth for a second to look over at Roslin “My friend Margaery could stay over here for a while if she came to visit me, right?”

 

“Sure.” Roslin said, not really looking up from her magazine, which Sansa knew by now meant that she had been paying very close attention to Sansa’s phone call and she would probably be telling Edmure all about it tomorrow on the way in to work.

 

“Okay yes, you can crash on our couch or with…or wherever.” She had caught herself before saying “with me” but it was a close thing. Maybe next time they hung out face to face, they would know each other enough for sharing a bed to be okay, but this was probably not the right time. Being friends with someone you had a crush on was hard work.

 

“Great.”  


“Great.”

 

And Sansa really couldn’t help the smile that was stretching across her face.

 

 

 

Margaery’s flight was a redeye, so Sansa had drank an extra coffee that night and felt jittery and had bad breath on top of the general nervousness of seeing Margaery face to face again.

 

She could fix one of those problems, by chomping down on a stick of gum while she waited for Margaery by the baggage claim, but the other refused to go away.

 

She had been texting Jeyne updates all throughout the day, and Jeyne had been patiently taking it for most of the day, but about an hour ago she had texted back _I have kindergartener who has class in seven hours and I still have to finish a half dozen chores before I go to bed, find someone else to angst to_ so now Sansa was trying to decide if confiding in Roslin was worth the reassurance of talking to someone, since it was now the same thing as confiding in Uncle Edmure as well.

 

She decided it was not, and took to opening and closing apps on her phone distractedly instead.

 

The arrival board indicated that the flight had landed, so she spit out her gum into the receipt from her drive-through coffee and went back to checking her phone, this time interspersing it with staring at the escalator coming down into baggage claim.

 

Her phone beeped with a quick, _Just landed :D See you soon!_

_See you soon =)_

And then after an unbelievably long twelve minutes, eighteen seconds, Margaery Tyrell was riding the escalator down, wearing yoga pants and a purple-grey hoodie, her curls caught up in a messy bun, with a designer leather satchel slung casually across her body. Sansa felt her breath catch at how effortlessly beautiful she looked, and took a moment to convince herself that she looked good too. These jeans made her legs look like they went on for light years, and her slouchy blue-green sweater played up her red hair and freckles to their best effect.

 

Margaery’s eyes met hers, and she flashed her an impish smile, before calling out “Sansa!”, and stepping easily into the walking lane to join her by the carousel and wrap her in a warm hug.

 

Sansa was surprised by how easy it was to just lean down and hold Margaery, and be held in return.

 

“I’m so sorry the flight was so late, you really didn’t have to come all the way down here to get me, I know you have work tomorrow.”

 

“Please, like I was going to subject you to Riverlands public transportation at this time of night.” Sansa laughed “Also, I worked ahead enough that I am all yours tomorrow, and the next two days after the weekend.”

 

“All mine?” Margaery smiled softly “I like the sound of that.”

 

Sansa blushed, but smiled back “I do too.”

 

 

 

They had an excellent day on the shores of the Trident, taking pictures of each other, and eating their picnic, and splashing around thigh deep in the water. Uncle Edmure had used Grandpa Tully’s connections to everyone around the river to rent them a rowboat, but he hadn’t gotten them a rower, and Sansa and Margaery both freely admitted to doubting their own abilities in that capacity, so they had decided to leave it at the rental place instead of risking it.

 

They drove back to the apartment when they started to feel hungry again, and made pancakes for dinner. They watched Project Runway while they ate and it had Princess Daenerys as a guest judge, and Margaery sighed over her purple halter dress.

 

“She is lovely. I must admit, it is a horribly fairy tale stereotype to want to marry a princess, but she was one of my first celebrity crushes.”

 

“Not for me.” Sansa made a face “She’s Jon’s aunt.”

 

Margaery giggled “I’d forgotten! You’re actual nobility!”

 

Sansa groaned “The North had all but done away with all of those titles, ever since the Wall went down and we integrated more with the Free Folk. Then the freaking Prince of Westeros went and had an affair with Aunt Lyanna before any of us were even born.”

 

Sansa frowns at the screen, where a young designer is showing a dress that looks way too much like standard fratboy clothes for her to ever consider it classy business casual.  

 

Margaery pops a slice of peach in her mouth and looks inquisitively at Sansa, encouraging her to continue. She shrugs “And it all went public when Jon was twenty, because of the whole thing with Aegon and Rhaenys seizing power from Viserys, and I mean, good for them, that was a bit of a shit situation. But it dredges up the whole story about Aunt Lyanna again, and all of a sudden, the tabloids are looking way back to before the War of the Five Kings, and we are nobility again. Mom and Dad are University professors. We all went to public highschool. None of us want to be nobility.” She snorted a little bit, and then reflected “Though Jon got the worst of it.”

 

Margaery giggled a little, but then sobered “No I get it. I tell people in school that I want to get into politics, and they ask me why I aren’t just sticking with living it up in high society, or using my name to get attention for charities. They think I can do more good that way, as an heiress to a fortune five hundred, but I don’t agree. And I don’t want to do things the easy way, and just hope that someone out there will care enough to make it stick.”

 

She shrugs philosophically “But having money does help.” She squints at the screen then, and turns the volume up a little “What on earth?”

 

“I know” Sansa agreed “Why does anyone think polo shirts actually look good?”

 

She had already known that Margaery was aiming to get into politics. She had every intention of someday being elected to Westeros highest office, and leading the free world, and Sansa believed she could do it. She also knew that she probably wasn’t exactly prime material for First Lady. Royal scandal in her family’s past, and a low paying non-profit job. Her family had also received government benefits when Bran had his accident, because Mom had taken a year’s leave of absence, and then only worked part time for the next year as he went through rehabilitation and the family had had to adapt. There was lots of stuff there that people would pick apart, on top of the prejudice that Margaery would already be facing as a lesbian.

 

Why was she trying to imagine herself as First Lady? _Why?_

 

 

 

Roslin texted Sansa at ten and told her that she was staying with a friend for the night, and she would see her tomorrow night.

 

“You should take my bed. The couch is not actually all that great. It looks cute, but I should not be trusted to make long term purchases that don’t involve clothes.”

 

Margaery frowned a little, jumping up and leaning against the sofa arm “I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed, Sansa. Especially if the couch is awful.”

 

“But you’re my guest!” Sansa protested “My mother would die of shame if I made a guest sleep on the couch.”

 

“Well how big is your bed?”

 

Sansa looked up at Margaery from under her lashes “Why, Miss Tyrell!”

 

Margaery grinned at her, and Sansa let go of her mock indignation to laugh “It’s big enough.”

 

They had already gotten into pajamas before they started watching reality tv, but now Margaery was taking out her contacts and spreading lotion on her hands. Sansa sat on the edge of the bed and parted her long red hair down the middle, braiding each half to keep it from tangling overnight. This personal, domestic intimacy was better than anything that Sansa had ever felt with any of the girls she had tried dating before.

 

She scooted over to the inside half of the bed, because she was a light sleeper, but Margaery had already admitted to sleeping like the dead. She could climb over Margaery with way less chance of waking her up.

 

Margaery slipped in next to her, and lay facing inward, just like Sansa was doing.

 

“You know, you’re not the only one who doesn’t normally get this close to people.”

 

Sansa swallowed hard “How do you think we’re doing at it?”

 

Margaery looked her in the eye meaningfully “We could be doing better.”

 

Sansa felt frozen. This was not anything she was prepared to deal with. Margaery’s face softened though, and she reached out to hold the hand that Sansa had left on her pillow “We’re not doing that bad though either.”

 

 

 

And then…nothing. The rest of the trip was amazing. The flirting didn’t stop either, but neither one of them had made a move to start dating. Roslin came home and gave Sansa lots of significant looks when she realized that the two of them were sharing a bed. Sansa had admitted to herself three days later that yes, she was head over heels for Margaery Tyrell. Loras had cursed her, and it had worked. But at the end of the week, Sansa had driven Margaery to the airport, and they had shared a long hug, and then Margaery had gone through security, to board a plane back to Old Town.

 

At Christmas, Rickon cornered her and Robb and Theon in a panic. Well, he went over to Robb and Theon’s place, and Sansa happened to be there visiting.

 

“Davos and Marya are moving in with Stannis!”

 

Sansa blinked at him “What?”

 

“Of course, we knew they were all close, but we never knew that they were close like that! I mean, we were shocked when Stannis only killed us a little, because we figured he would be a lot more freaked out about the fact that there were three of us together, and we were really glad when he wasn’t but we had no idea that this was the reason why!”

 

“Rickon.” Robb gripped Rickon’s face gently and leaned their foreheads together. Gods Above, Rickon was taller than Robb. And taller than her too, since she and Robb were the same height.

 

Rickon took in a deep breath, and sagged, burying his face in the crook of Robb’s neck. Robb held him there for a minute, resting a hand on the back of his neck.

 

“You okay now? You want to sit down and start over from the beginning?”

 

Rickon nodded, his face still buried in Robb’s neck.

 

It was a few more minutes before Rickon was sitting down between Robb and Sansa, and Theon pushed a cup of tea across the table into his hands.

 

“So it turns out that all those times that Stannis and was going places with Marya and Davos, they were going on dates.”

 

Sansa could see that Theon was itching to say something, but he restrained himself and she was grateful.

 

“What’s wrong with that?” Sansa asked him “I mean, Stannis can’t resent that you and Devan and Shirreen are all going out then.”

 

“But then Davos and Marya are moving in with Stannis.” Rickon reminded them “And Shireen and Devan aren’t even that surprised. They told me that they thought they might be going out, but they didn’t want to jinx it by saying anything,”

 

Robb drummed his fingers on the table “Are you upset that they didn’t tell you Rickon? Because I can’t really see and other downsides.”

 

“But Shireen and Devan are going to basically be step siblings! And I wanted them to be the ones who got married!”

 

“Woah.” Theon pushed back his hair, and looked over from the cupboards he was rifling through to find the radioactive orange cookies that they kept specially stocked for Rickon “Kid, you’re nineteen. This is your first year of college, Shireen and Devan are only twenty and twenty one. You’ve got some time before anyone needs to be married.”

 

“Yeah, four years. By then Shireen will be a teacher, and she’ll have to look respectable. No one wants to hire a girl who’s living with two guys that she’s dating to teach a bunch of kids. But if she’s married to a smart respectable guy and they have a roommate who’s still in college that looks better.”

 

“So they want to hide that they’re with you?” Sansa frowned “That’s not right.”

 

“No, I haven’t told them yet.” Rickon shook his head and slumped down in his seat “I came up with the plan on my own.”

 

“It’s not a bad plan.” Theon told him bluntly, pushing the package of cookies across the table and sitting down himself “But making it without asking Devan and Shireen is.”

 

Sansa and Robb both nodded in agreement, and Rickon slumped even further across the table, taking one of the cookies.

 

“Why do you want them to be the ones to get married?” Sansa asked, reaching out to rub his back with the heel of her hand.

 

“Because I’ve got a juvenile record with a half dozen misdemeanors to my name?” Rickon shrugged “And they were already together for a year before I started dating them. I figure they deserve it. And I like seeing them in love.”

 

Sansa felt her mouth opening up into an _‘awwww’_ face, but Robb shot her a warning look over Rickon’s head _‘Not now’_

 

“Well.” Robb leaned against the table too, his head resting on crossed arms so he could look Rickon in the eyes “As marriage in Westeros is still limited to two people, Shireen and Devan won’t really be step siblings. It’s not really anyone else’ business why Davos and Marya moved in with Stannis. And the truth probably isn’t the assumption most people will jump to. And it’s not like Devan and Shireen grew up as siblings.”

 

Rickon nodded, taking a bite out of his orange cookie.

 

“And more importantly Rick, you have to talk about these things with Devan and Shireen. Tell them if you don’t feel like an equal part. Tell them about your plans and see what they think.”

 

He cuffed the back of Rickon’s head affectionately “Don’t just overthink things and create problems that aren’t there. Tell the people that you love how you feel.”

 

“And screw anyone else’s opinions.” Theon added “It doesn’t matter if someone else thinks there’s anything wrong with you three being together. It doesn’t matter if some stuffy schoolboard thinks that you’re a bad person for getting into trouble as a kid. None of you should get married in any combination just to make them happy. Shireen could host weekend orgies and still be awesome at teaching.”

 

Rickon smiled, and leaned back a little into the hand that Sansa was still rubbing in circles on his back before sitting up to drink his tea.

 

And Sansa realized with a start that everything that had been said pretty much also applied to her. And she possibly had a phone call to make. Or maybe a plane ticket to buy. Yeah. That sounded like a better idea.

 

 

 

Margaery had told her that she liked to spend time after class in one of the gardens of the Seven Shrines, watching the sunset and listening to the Honeywine rush by. Sansa was able to figure out which one it was by stalking Margaery’s photos on Facebook and comparing them to the photos on the Seven Shrines website.

 

Sansa had thought that she was prepared to see her again. She really wasn’t. Margaery was flushed with happiness, from something, and her hair was escaping the messy braid she had put it in and twisting out in curls in all directions. She was in her law student clothes, a wide collared white shirt and a long green pencil skirt, wearing flipflops, her slingback heels hanging from her fingers.

 

Sansa had worn a long blue skirt, with a light grey cardigan, and brushed her hair smooth and flat, and left it down.

 

“Sansa?”

 

Sansa felt her lips quirking up, and she reached behind her to pick up the bouquet of flowers “So the first time I ever saw you, you were bringing flowers to my house, because your brother decided he really wanted to set us up. And I was so determined to spite him, that even though I really liked you, I didn’t even ask for your number.”

 

Margaery was starting to smile, as she reached Sansa’s side and set down her purse and her sling backs on the bench behind them.

 

“And now?”

 

“Now, I’m really, really glad that you were smarter than me. That you tracked me down and started our friendship. Because now I have another best friend. The smartest, most beautiful girl I know.”

 

Margaery opened her mouth to protest, but Sansa shook her head, and pressed the flowers into her hands “I do mean it. And I know you’ve been leaving this in my hands, and I’m grateful. I wasn’t ready. But now I am. And I am so far gone on you Margaery Tyrell. All of my old arguments, all of the reasons I had for not saying anything don’t matter. Please, be my girlfriend. Tell me I wasn’t an idiot for coming out all this way.”

 

Margaery pressed a hand against her mouth, and nodded her agreement. She leaned forward and brushed back a piece of Sansa’s hair to press a soft kiss against her mouth. Sansa cupped the back of Margaery’s head as gently as she knew how to, and pressed a little harder into the kiss. And she was pretty sure that the fireworks inside her head were the sign of a victory.

 

 

 

Bran and Jojen did get married before Sansa, but only by a couple of months. Mom was ecstatic to be attending two of her children’s weddings so close together. Rickon got his way, and Shireen and Devan were married in a quite civil ceremony at the courthouse, but they threw a party afterwards, and all three of them exchanged vows. Robb became governor of the North, and he and Theon adopted three kids and five dogs. Jon and Ygritte had two more kids and became the leading forces behind the biggest police reforms that Westeros had ever seen. Arya and Gendry never got married, never had kids, never learned how to throw a proper fancy party, and never ever stopped making Stannis Baratheon frown in dismay.

 

After eighteen years of marriage, Margaery Tyrell and Sansa Stark and their two sons moved into the old Tower of the Hand, and spent twelve years leading Westeros as the very best Prime Minister and First Lady that had ever been in office. The internet said so.

 

Sansa had always secretly wanted her fashion choices to be considered headline news, and now they were, at all three inaugural balls. Even Daenerys Targaryan didn’t look better.

 

She could deal with Loras looking smug. She could deal with reporters constantly asking her stupid questions. Gods only knew that her family was enough to send them all packing. She could deal with living that close to Jon’s weird snobby relatives. Margaery was worth it all.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, tell me again if I've done anything wrong or offensive to the queer community. Cis-het girl writing here, and I want to get things right. I really had fun writing this, and I hope you had fun reading it!


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